


Chastity Rules

by katya1828



Series: Domestic Discipline Goes to the Devil [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Chastity Device, Denial of Feelings, Humor, Light Angst, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Whump, M/M, Mild Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22376980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katya1828/pseuds/katya1828
Summary: Lucifer wants Pierce to confess how much he wants him. His methods of persuasion result in a really bad day at the office for Marcus Pierce.Set season 3, following the marriage ep. and my other fics in the series, but you can probably get the gist without reading them.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar & Marcus Pierce, Lucifer Morningstar/Marcus Pierce
Series: Domestic Discipline Goes to the Devil [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575871
Comments: 19
Kudos: 89





	Chastity Rules

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KalChloe1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalChloe1/gifts).



> I was going to revert to my usual hobby of whumping Lucifer after “Lucifer Gets Revenge” but KalChloe1tempted me with so many fun plot bunnies that I just had to torture Marcus a little more first. Usual service of Lucifer!whump will be resumed in the next fic in the series (which was originally the second half of this fic, but it got too long for me to handle the proofing and editing at once. It should be up by the end of the weekend.)
> 
> My sincere apologies for any typos - self betad, so I do my best.

Pierce had rarely awoken more uncomfortable or less refreshed. It took him a few bleary seconds to orientate himself, before he recognised he was in his office at the precinct, his head rested in his arms on his desktop.

Oh yeah, last night had been a late one. He and Decker had been working ’til past two a.m., and he couldn’t be bothered to go home after that. So here he was. He sat up, massaging a crick from his neck. Then it struck him. The weird feeling of… something stiff and constraining where his underwear should be. And, worse, of another _something,_ cool and hard, intruding inside his butt.

“What the f—?”

He scrambled his hand down the front of his trousers, finding a hard, cold surface where he was pretty sure—being old school—he’d last been wearing a snug pair of Calvin Kleins. Dread crept through him as he fumbled his flies open, greeted with the sight of a shining metal band about his waist and a large, ornately slatted stainless-steel hood imprisoning his manhood. He fumbled his way around to the small of his back, fingering what he knew instantly to be a padlock. Beneath, a thin strip of leather threaded down, no doubt attaching through to the sizable-feeling butt plug that was already making him squirm.

A chastity belt. Since when had he been wearing a chastity belt? He hadn’t been drinking last night, so unless something truly weird had happened and he’d somehow lost time…

He jumped up, raking his sleep-mussed hair, mumbling obscenities and desperate to punch a particular somebody.

Lucifer.

Nobody else could possibly be responsible for—

“Morning Lieutenant! Good night’s rest?” With his usual impeccable timing, Lucifer breezed through the door of the office, closing it lightly behind him. He looked particularly chipper, in a three-piece emerald green suit. He met Pierce’s furious glower with a beaming smile.

“Take it off me, Lucifer! Now!”

“What? Your clothes? With pleasure. Oh, hold on, _I_ remember. I gifted you a particularly fetching pair of panties last night, didn’t I.”

Pierce wanted to charge across his office, grab Lucifer and shake him so hard his eyes rolled. In the circumstances, he buttoned his flies, then loped awkwardly and slowly toward his nemesis, who he’d rarely seen so exuberant at such an early hour.

“How did you get it on me?” he demanded. “Did you roofy me?”

Lucifer looked offended. “I’d never stoop that low! I’ve never needed to, but that’s beside the point. In your case, I learned when we were married that you sleep like the dead, which is ironic on several levels. Who says there’s no rest for the wicked?”

Lucifer’s glee had returned with a vengeance. Pierce raised his hands in surrender. The clock on his wall told him it was 8.10 am. The open-plan office outside would soon be bustling with police personnel. He couldn’t get through the morning wearing a pair of metal pants. Or a butt plug, which seemed to be swelling inside of him, becoming larger and more annoying as the seconds ticked by.

He eked tight words from between gritted teeth. “You win, Lucifer. I assume you’ve hidden the key somewhere I’ll never find it, so what do I have to do to get these things off me?”

“Oh, you are in a hurry! Don’t you want to enjoy our little game for a—”

Pierce’s patience snapped. He grabbed Lucifer by the lapels and shoved his face threateningly close. “I’m not in the mood for your shitty, twisted games. What do I have to do?”

Lucifer pried Pierce off with a mere brush of his hand, which served to piss off Pierce even further. “You seemed to enjoy our twisted games the last few times we played. Well, maybe not the last one.” Lucifer smirked, then feigned an air of crestfallen woe. “Still, I’m hurt. Or maybe that’s the point. You _do_ like hurting me.”

Pierce sure as heck wanted to hurt Lucifer now, and not in any sexy kind of way. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

“It’s terribly simple. I’ll even give you two options. Firstly, you could prostrate yourself at my feet and beg.”

“Never going to happen,” said Pierce. “Give me option two.”

“Fine. Option two is more fun.” Lucifer glanced over his shoulder through the glass part of the door, as if to see who was arriving outside. “All you need to do is tell me what you want of me. What you _really_ want of me. And then act on it.”

“Ngh!” Pierce cringed, shoving his hand down his trousers to try and adjust himself within the belt and failing. The hood over his cock felt like it was lined with leather or rubber or something, which he guessed was better than being pressed against sheet metal. But not _much_ better. What Lucifer asked of him didn’t seem such a high price to pay. “Okay, just get on with it. Do you mojo thing. Pull out my deepest desires.”

“That would be too easy on you.” Lucifer had wandered around to Pierce’s desk, and now sat down on the chair, propping his feet up on Pierce’s neat papers as he gazed out of the window. “It must be excruciating for you, here at work every day—wanting to fuck me, wanting to spank me every time I misbehave, wanting me at your mercy. How trying, when you know that every time the Detective walks through that door, you could drag me into the nearest broom cupboard and have your wicked way with me, because I’m all _vulnerable_. Just as you like me.”

“You overestimate your appeal.” Pierce marched back around the table and grabbed Lucifer by the upper arm, yanking him up. Mercifully, Lucifer let himself be yanked. “Get out of my seat, and give me the key to this instrument of torture!”

“You haven’t given me what I want yet. And you need to say it properly—I’m not helping you here.”

Ah. So that was why Lucifer had been avoiding his gaze for the last few minutes. “I-I got off on hurting you, and I enjoyed fucking you,” muttered Marcus. “Okay? Is that enough?”

“I don’t believe it is.” Lucifer twisted his arm free, his expression turning grave. “I’m well acquainted with your sadistic kinks, and everyone who is blessed with the opportunity enjoys fucking me. You’d best think on your answer a little while. When you’re ready to be honest with me, I’ll be ready with the key. Ah, there’s the Detective!” Spotting Chloe arriving at her desk carrying a large coffee and a breakfast pastry in a paper bag, Lucifer brightened. “I’d best get to work. You’ll know where to get hold of me when you want me.”

“But I just told you! I came clean!”

Lucifer had already departed. Chloe, who’d been taking a sip of her coffee, was busy choking at the sight of Lucifer at work early for no apparent reason. He perched on the edge of her desk, laughing at something or other, while she grew mildly perplexed and tried to draw his attention to some case files.

Pierce flopped down on his chair, cringing at the metallic clunk and pressure up his butt as he landed. This was an absolute nightmare! He’d said everything he could say, hadn’t he? There was nothing between him and Lucifer save his sadistic lusts, which were easily explained by his need to dominate the one being who was—usually—stronger than him. Lucifer was hot, he couldn’t deny that, but most of the world coveted him and a good half of those, it seemed, had slept with him. It was all part of his mojo. Why was Lucifer picking on him?

Okay, there was the obvious explanation for that. Caine was the world’s first murderer, and in need of punishment, but Lucifer’s Dad had adequately seen to that over the years. Surely Lucifer could see his slate was all but clean. Kind of.

There was really nothing else to confess—apart from that which Pierce wouldn’t admit, because it wasn’t true, it was just his desires playing tricks on him. That he wanted a real connection with Lucifer, that he wanted all these games between them to _mean_ something.

He rubbed his stubbly cheeks wearily. No way! There really was nothing else he could tell Lucifer, and the son-of-a-bitch would have to realize that sooner or later.

He threw himself into assigning and signing off cases, striving to distract himself from his discomfort. Failure was inevitable. The plug in his butt made sitting any length of time unbearable, and as for the chastity belt—he couldn’t even scratch anything, and his buttocks repeatedly cramped.

On hearing a commotion from the office outside, Pierce seized upon the diversion. After throwing his door open, he regretted it instantly. Goddamned Lucifer had stripped his shirt off. Decker was lunging forward, grabbing at Lucifer to prevent him taking his trousers down. He’d already peeled them low enough to prove he’d no underwear beneath.

“But Detective, I’ve got hot coffee all over me, including my crotch,” protested Lucifer. “If I don’t remove all my clothes immediately, I could be badly scalded in the most important places. The pleasure of the entire population of LA is in jeopardy.”

“It can’t be that bad,” said Chloe, more placatory than sympathetic. “The coffee was almost cold.”

“But it hurt… a bit,” announced Lucifer, inappropriately elated, as Chloe led him away toward the washrooms. He glanced over his shoulder to where Pierce stood in his office doorway, clearly revelling in Pierce’s suffering.

Despite all Pierce’s woes, shirtless Lucifer and that delicious flash of his butt, had given Pierce a semi. Inside the chastity belt. _Nnnnng!_ The throes of death, Pierce decided, were not much less excruciating.

And that was when the butt-plug started to… _buzz._

Involuntarily, Pierce’s hands flew to grasp his arse, prompting Espinoza, who sat at the nearest desk, to shoot him a puzzled look.

“You okay, Lieutenant?” asked Espinoza. “Uh, what’s that weird noise?”

Pierce stepped back into his office, cheeks burning, brow and palms sweating. He wanted to sob, although, thankfully, the vibrations soon stopped. The horrible itch of need against his prostate abated, and his erection began to wane. But he couldn’t even perk himself up with a cup of coffee. He needed the bathroom badly enough, as it was.

After a few minutes, Lucifer poked his head in the office, still buttoning up his half-open shirt. “Comfy?”

Pierce looked up from where he sat, head in hands, wallowing in his misery. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Not quite the sentiments I’m after.” Lucifer slipped his hand in a pocket and pressed whatever mobile device activated the vibrator. After enjoying Pierce cursing and writhing for another ten seconds, he switched it off and wandered away.

Predictably, Pierce’s morning didn’t get much better. For starters, a team of builders turned up and piled into the interrogation room. The Chief of Police had given them urgent orders for an upgrade. She was way above even Pierce’s paygrade, so he couldn’t intervene. It was a major carpentry job, and the noisy sawing and whine of power-tools gave Pierce a stinking headache.

Worse, Lucifer ruthlessly took the piss out of Pierce’s “sadistic kinks” through contriving a series of ridiculous accidents that had Decker, Lopez and most of the office fussing over him. Not only did he trail Chloe like an overgrown puppy. He followed up the spilt coffee incident by developing a hitherto absent clumsy streak, whacking his head on a doorframe, and then a wooden plank that one of the workmen was carrying across the office. He’d only just handed the soothing icepack back to Ella, when he managed to step in a rubbish bin and apparently twist his ankle.

The sight of Lucifer hopping about yelling, “Ow!”—while still looking far too cheerful—didn’t turn Pierce on one bit. Pierce’s face felt like it was on fire, his every muscle and sinew screwed tight with tension, and as for his groin… enough was enough.

On the verge of spontaneously combusting, Pierce strode across the office, as bold as he could manage without cringing at the chafing up his butt. He grabbed Lucifer by the elbow, spinning him around. “Meeting. You and me. Now!”

“Careful,” said Ella, a doe-eyed portrait of concern. “He’s injured.”

“Yeah, _right_.” Pierce grunted, tugging Lucifer—who affected a theatrical limp—toward his office. Once inside, Pierce slammed the door.

Lucifer straightened like a ramrod and arched a brow. “Ready to confess?”

“I hate you, Lucifer,” seethed Marcus, fists clenching and unclenching. “But I want you, and you drive me insane. I can’t stop thinking about you! Is that enough? Now take this thing off of me!"  
  
“We’re getting there.” Lucifer cocked his head to one side, as if mulling the matter over. "I think we need to try a little harder, though. How about a please?” Lucifer reached into his pocket gave the butt plug a prolonged _bzzzzzzz_.

“Please!” Marcus’s voice hadn’t hit such a high pitch since he was a kid, a very long time ago.

“Tell me, how exactly do you want me?"  
  
Lucifer set the plug vibrating again. Pierce was almost ready to sink to his knees. “Please, just give me the key! I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That isn’t the point, Marcus,” said Lucifer airily. “You’re only taking it off, if you tell me exactly what you want to do with _me_. And then, I want you to fulfil that desire—that’s an important part of the deal.”

“Oh God!”

“He’s not going help,” snapped Lucifer. “Tell me!”

Pierce tugged his hair in despair, and despair finally compelled him to focus on the truth. Confessing was… easy really. He grasped Lucifer’s shoulders, fixing deep in his eyes. “Look, I want to… I want to fight you, to beat you… and then I want… I want to screw you. I want to fuck you real rough again, here and now. In the office. While Decker’s around and I know I’ve got a chance of overpowering you. Is that enough? Okay? But we can’t do it here and now, can we? People would hear. I’d lose my job! And besides… I really, really need to use the bathroom! Pleeeease?”

A sly smile twisted on Lucifer’s lips. He reached into the same jacket pocket where he’d kept the remote—so much for Pierce’s assumption he’d hidden it—and brought out a small silver key. “That will do for now.”

Pierce moved to snatch the key. Lucifer closed his fist fast about it, reaching it above his head and rising onto tiptoes. “Uh, uh. Not so fast. I still want you to follow through on your desires, please. If I give this to you, you can take the chastity belt off, but then you have to meet me in the interrogation room straight after and see this through.”

“But the builders are in there,” whined Pierce.

“They’ve just finished, actually. I asked the Chief of Police to make sure it was a quick job. She still owes me a dozen favours, so it was a bit of a no-brainer.”

“The building works were _your_ doing? Why do you want— Oh crap, I don’t even care. I’ll meet you there. Just give me the key.”

Lucifer opened his palm, and the key dropped to the floor with a light _chink_. Pierce dived for it, scrambling around Lucifer’s shoes on his hands and knees.

“I thought you’d vowed _never_ to bow at my feet,” said Lucifer, triumphant.

Pierce snatched up the key, and charged towards the men’s cloakroom, not caring when every one of his underlings fell silent, stopped what they were doing, and stared.

He didn’t know exactly what he could do in the interrogation room, but he detested being humiliated. He sure as _hell_ was going to make Lucifer pay this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I promise I'll have the events in the interrogation room posted soon... they do take an unexpected twist (well, they surprised me!!)


End file.
